No Bravery
by bobdabuilder0804
Summary: COMPLETE Jack fic. One Chapter. COMPLETE


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No Bravery.

Jack stood still, scanning the area which surrounded him. A cold wind blew at his clothes, but he was indoors. He could see the four walls surrounding him, he could feel the dark atmosphere engulf him, but where was the cold coming from? Shivering Jack rubbed at his arms as the fine hairs covering them began to stand on edge.

The silence was suddenly shattered by a loud bout of laughter which made Jack jump. He immediately identified it as a child's laughter, for a fleeting moment Kim ran through his mind but she quickly disappeared again. The laughter turned into singing, a soft lullaby whispered, only it was loud. So very loud, it echoed around the walls. How could a child make such a noise, Jack wondered, turning around as he peered through the darkness looking for the child singing her nursery rhyme.

But the room was empty. Another shiver stole its way down Jacks spine as his hands began to itch, something wasn't right.

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"Ring a ring a rosie…"

Jack took a step forward, trying to find the source of the chanting. It didn't seem to come from anywhere, it almost felt as though the child was sat on his shoulder shouting the words into his ear.

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"A pocket full of posies…"

The volume stayed but the singing slowed right down, so each individual word was stretched out impossibly long. Jack began to scare as the simple rhyme sounded more and more demonic, looking around he still couldn't find the source of the noise, he began to panic.

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"A tissue a tissue…"

He rubbed his eyes as a door appeared on the fourth wall; how had he missed this earlier? His vision was blurry as he took slow shaky steps towards his target. Gripping the door it wouldn't open, his hands fumbled over the brass handle, slippery with sweat.

Looking down Jack staggered backwards in semi shock and confusion as the sweat covering his hands slowly turned into thick red blood, soaking into his clothes.

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"We all fall down…"

The rhyme ended and for a brief second Jack forgot about his fear and the blood covering his body as there was a moment of silence. It didn't last. Sudden screams erupted, even louder than the lullaby had been, and Jack screamed too, his voice lost in the tornado of noise as his ear drums threatened to split from the relentless pounding noise.

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"We all fall down…" The words repeated themselves over the screams as though on repeat, before a sudden fireball appeared in the corner of the room, swallowing up huts and houses and cattle which all appeared from nowhere. Jack watched amazed, not knowing where the destroyed land had appeared from. What was wrong with him?

Still shouting with his hands over his ears Jack realised there were pictures in the fire; old men being shot as others were taken away; a little girl dragging a teddy bear behind her as she cried for her mother… men with guns were running through the chaos_… "We all fall down…" _The words resounded in his ears as he watched the image of himself running as part of the rampage; not strong enough to stop it he had to make himself take part.

The silence was back. No more screams. No more tears. No more childish singing. The image was still there in the fire burning brightly, the fire which seemed to no longer provide heat. The young girl lay on the ground, deadly still; a small dribble of blood slowly pooled from underneath her, sinking into the sandy ground as it grew steadily.

She had been singing the rhyme, Jack realised as he took another step closer to the fire, mesmerised and heart broken by the image of the dead little girl.

Everything suddenly stopped.

A sharp scream tore in Jack's throat as pain completely engulfed him; the image of his own bullet silencing the little dark haired girl appeared in the dead fire. The teddy bear lay abandoned and dirty on the ground besides her; Jack watched sickened as his own form moved on as though undisturbed by his crime, blindly following Ramon into more death and destruction.

By his own hand, Jack realised; he had killed the little girl. He had killed her laughter and singing. He had killed it all.

And for what?

He woke up suddenly, his eyes blinking open but his body unmoving. Laying deadly still he stared up at the ceiling as the memory controlled him once again. He was used to the dreams, the guilt and the horror of his memories from Mexico. He didn't deserve to cry, or to hyperventilate until he was a sweaty and pathetic mess each time he woke up; he wouldn't allow it.

He was terrified and his stomach hurt from the effort of staying so calm but he wouldn't have it any other way. He was tired; but he wouldn't sleep. He would lay still, daring himself to move or react in any way which would give himself comfort. The glass of water was only too close, but he wouldn't reach for it despite his cracked lips and dry throat. He didn't deserve to react to the nightmares, he had to take the punishment. It was never enough, he knew, but it was all he had.

Laying in the thin cot inside the rehab centre, Jack blinked away the tears. He wasn't allowed to sob. He had killed the little girl, and so many others. And for what? For the greater good? That line had been comforting in Mexico, when he had first been confronted with those drastic compromises. But now laying here, on the other side of the line; almost in another world; he wondered… was it really worth it?

It didn't seem so.

He had done it to save lives but people had died anyway. Innocents were grieving or dead when he, the man responsible for the chaos and the destruction, was alive. Was alive and being treated for his own selfish addiction, he reminded himself; which was even more disgusting.

It had been easier to tell himself it was worth it, that the deaths would be avenged and save the lives of others, than it was to accept the consequences of those actions. In the aftermath, however, he didn't feel relief. He didn't feel forgiven for his sins. All he felt was the heavy load of the enormity of the entire situation weigh down on him; and he knew he wasn't strong enough to carry it.

He had failed. He hadn't saved lives. He hadn't achieved his goals. He had killed. He had sacrificed hundreds of people. He had taken upon the role of something far beyond himself and any other human being; who was he to decide who gets to live and who gets to die?

He closed his eyes as he began to tremble, willing the thoughts away - he didn't deserve self pity either, it was an insult to the deaths he had caused.

Exhaling deeply Jack slowly fell to sleep again, the accusations continuing to accuse him subconsciously. How could he live with himself, how could he look himself in the mirror and not feel shame? Their was only one answer… he couldn't.

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(Title was taken from James Blunt.)


End file.
